


Wanted: partner (in crime)

by SquaresAreNotCircles



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Domestic Fluff, Humor, M/M, lots of bicker-flirting, probably not canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 10:23:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15839298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquaresAreNotCircles/pseuds/SquaresAreNotCircles
Summary: “I’m offended by how eager you were to clarify that you’re not tapping this.” He waves a hand up and down to indicate his own body. “Babe, you wish you were so lucky.”Steve looks at him with more fondness than annoyance. “Sure, Danno. You’re a catch.”In which “this is Steve, my partner” does not mean what people think it means, and the whole situation is going to give Danny a complex, one of these days.





	Wanted: partner (in crime)

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve been thinking a lot about “partners”, and how it’s not always quite clear if they’re of the work or life variety when someone uses that description for a relationship. In other words, this fic exists because the English language is beautifully ambiguous. Thank you, English.
> 
> The alternate title for this (which I seriously very nearly went with) is _Howdy, Partner_. I blame Toy Story, which has truly been a formative influence for me, apparently.

1.

Kono somehow talks him into coming to a party. She applies a solid strategy of guilt tripping him over wanting to skip what she calls a team bonding night, in combination with mentioning that she’s already blackmailed Steve into attending. Danny acts like this has no impact on his decision, but Kono has this grin that says she’s not buying a word of it, which is ridiculous. It’s not like Steve is his _only_ friend, and he can totally go to a party without him. 

It’s just more fun with him there to argue with, instead of standing in a corner nursing his beer mostly on his own as soon as Kono and Chin inevitably desert him. 

That’s a very reasonable consideration, Danny thinks. That’s not weird or co-dependent. Probably.

Anyway, there’s a party, and Danny isn’t sure whose house they’re at, but he’s glad it’s not his. There’s enough people inside to get jealous of the wiggle room canned sardines have, and the people and music spill out onto the lānai and further down to the beach. As predicted, Kono disappears into the masses pretty quickly, and when Chin is also drawn away by a very pretty woman he apparently knows, Danny’s seen enough of inside. He takes Steve by the elbow and is glad when Steve allows him to lead them both out the door.

Outside, Danny breathes in the fresh air. Night is falling over the island, but hasn’t quite landed yet. It’s busy here too, and there’s an actual DJ blasting summer hits over the beach, but it’s a lot less claustrophobic or deafening than inside the house.

“Where do you want to go?” Steve asks.

Danny shrugs. His eye catches on a row of mostly empty plastic chairs set up with their backs against the outside of the lānai.

“Hey,” he says to the only guy sitting there. “These chairs occupied?”

“No man, go ahead.”

“Great,” Danny says, and flops down on one of them. Parties didn’t used to be this exhausting.

The guy lifts his beer at them in greeting. “I’m Brandon.”

Danny nods at him. “Danny.” He points a thumb in the direction of Steve, who’s sitting on his other side. “This is Steve, my partner.”

“Aloha,” Steve says, because he’s terrible.

Brandon perks up, for some reason. He seems happier about Steve being Danny’s partner than Danny himself is, most days. “Oh, hey, can I ask you guys something?”

Danny can sense Steve leaning forward a bit, next to him, paying attention. Figures that he would get excited about the possibility of getting to do some work. “Sure,” Danny answers, for both of them.

“I’ve been wondering which clubs to hit up to get a taste of the gay night life on Hawaii. Any advice?”

Danny blinks at him, his response coming a little slower than he’d like. “I don’t think we’re the ones you want to ask, buddy.” He turns to Steve to confirm, in case Steve has some unexpected depths and wants to offer his insights into the topic, but he just looks dumbfounded. And ain’t that something, Five-0’s always vigilant, highly trained SEAL caught off guard by a question about night clubs.

“Oh, that’s alright,” Brandon says. “Clubs not really your scene?”

“They’re fine, I guess, from time to time.” Danny pauses, takes a breath while looking back at the last twenty seconds of the conversation, and comes to the conclusion it still seems just as odd as it had felt while living those twenty seconds. He waggles his finger between him and Steve. “Just out of curiosity, how come you think we’d be the ones to turn to for gay party advice?”

Now Brandon is blinking back at them. “Because you said you were... partners? Did I get that wrong?”

The lightbulb finally flickers to life.

“Ohhh,” Danny says, at the same moment that Steve interrupts, “ _Police_ partners.”

Brandon’s eyes widen, but Danny doesn’t let him get a word in.

“Hey,” he says, poking Steve in the arm and frowning, “you were pretty quick to spit out that denial. What, I’m not good enough for you?” 

“Seriously? You’re offended by the truth now?”

“I’m offended by how eager you were to clarify that you’re not tapping this.” He waves a hand up and down to indicate his own body. “Babe, you wish you were so lucky.”

Steve looks at him with more fondness than annoyance. “Sure, Danno. You’re a catch.”

“Huh,” Brandon says. He opens his mouth again, as if he wants to say something else, but then he looks from Steve to Danny and back and snaps it shut. “So you’re really work partners?”

“Tragically, yes.”

From the look Brandon gives him, that might not have been the most convincingly heterosexual answer if interpreted a certain way, but hey, Danny is secure enough in his identity to let that go. He’s soon distracted, anyway.

“Sorry for the misunderstanding,” Brandon says.

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve assures him. “You’re not the first to make that mistake.”

Danny almost starts to laugh, before it dawns on him what Steve actually said. “Wait, what?”

-

2.

So, turns out that one time Danny got shot and Steve (in a stroke of uncharacteristic generosity) picked up his dry cleaning for him, Steve had introduced himself to the nice lady at the counter as Danny’s partner. She’d asked how long they were together. Steve had obliviously replied five years and smiled back and said “yeah, definitely” when she had remarked how nice it was that Danny had someone to wait for him at home.

Steve had connected the dots ten minutes later, while driving Danny’s car to Danny’s home to drop off Danny’s dry cleaning before going to visit Danny at the hospital, where he completely neglected to mention that Danny’s dry cleaning lady now thought Danny was in a committed, half a decade old romantic relationship with a 6’1 Navy SEAL.

It does explain why she’s been dropping so many hints about nice wedding locations in Hawaii recently.

-

3.

They’re at the beach, because that’s what happens when you’re on an island. It’s unavoidable, but it’s not so bad – the sun is shining (like it has any other settings in this corner of earth), there are people surfing and kids building sandcastles (they’re good, but they have nothing on Grace and Charlie’s), and Danny and Steve are having a nice walk (very romantic, if it were anybody but Steve). Danny therefore doesn’t really see it coming when there’s suddenly something flying at his head.

He has no time to duck and Steve is no help, but he somehow manages to bring his hands up in time, and he catches something. The pain in his face he’d been expecting never comes. When he opens his eyes, he finds out why Steve’s SEAL instincts didn’t kick in when he detected the threat. 

It’s a volleyball, and Steve is laughing at him.

“Hey!” 

Danny looks up to see a woman jogging towards them over the sand, with a second woman standing some distance behind her on the other side of a volleyball net, a hand clasped over her mouth. She must have been the one who launched this thing at him. 

“We’re so sorry,” the first woman says, when she comes to a stop in front of them. She looks to be about their age, maybe a little younger, and Danny can’t help but notice she looks striking in her bikini, her dark hair up in a ponytail. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No worries, I’m still all in one piece.”

“Thank you,” she says, accepting her ball back. “Really, I’m so sorry. My friend hit the ball wrong and it went completely wide.”

“That’s okay,” Danny assures her, because it really is when it’s his introduction to a woman like this.

Steve pipes up. “He’s been through worse, trust me.”

“No thanks to you,” Danny shoots back, but then he turns to the woman in front of them before she runs off again because he gets too caught up in bickering with Steve. He offers her his hand, which she shakes with a firm, dry grip. “My name is Danny, and this big lug here is my partner, Steve.”

“Jessica. My friend over there is Kayla.” She points at the other woman, who’s still standing a little way away and makes frantically apologetic hand gestures at them when they look over. Danny waves her off, and her gestures turn grateful. From what he can see from this distance, she’s just as pretty as Jessica.

Steve looks unaccountably amused. “Looks like you just found your soulmate, Danno. She talks with her hands almost as much as you do.”

“Oh, don’t be jealous, babe. It’s not a good look on you.”

Jessica laughs, and it’s a very nice sound. “Hey, do you two want to play?”

“You gonna repay me by letting us win?” Danny asks, already following her to the net. He doesn’t have to look at Steve to know if he’s in, because of course he is. He’s just been challenged to play sports near the ocean. Add in some criminals to righteously dangle of off buildings and a car chase, and you have something pretty close to McGarrett heaven.

Jessica’s smile is pure danger. “Not if we have anything to say about it.”

So they play. Jessica turns out to be good enough that she has no trouble competing even against Steve, and Kayla is also a lot better than the way they met would suggest. Jessica and Kayla win the first set, Steve and Danny the second, and the third keeps dragging on, because neither of them manages to get a two point advantage over the other team. Eventually, they have to call it quits because the girls are meeting some friends. 

“You gave us a good game,” Jessica says, while pulling on a top and stepping into a pair of shorts. 

Kayla, who’s also wearing more clothes than she was a minute ago (a shame), slings her backpack over her shoulder. She has the volleyball under her arm. “Sorry, again,” she tells Danny, with a cute little half frown, half smile.

“Hey, I told you, it’s all good,” he reassures her. “Although, if you really still feel bad, you could make it up to me by giving me your number and letting me take you out for coffee some time, if you’re up for it.”

Danny can see Steve scoff silently out of the corner of his eye. He’s not even dignifying that with a response, coming from someone who took off his shirt five minutes into the game and is still just holding it in his hands now, completely missing the hint to put it back on when everyone started getting dressed.

“Like a date?” Kayla asks.

He shrugs, playing it casual. “Yeah, if you like.”

Both Kayla and Jessica’s eyes shoot to Steve. It’s a little annoying, but also a lot confusing, because Steve wasn’t even making any disparaging almost-noises this time. “You’re okay with this?” Jessica asks Steve, sounding shocked, and suddenly the annoyance definitely wins out.

“Which part?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, no offense,” Danny adds, even though he’s not sure he means it, because he’s already pretty offended himself, “but I’d politely like to ask why the hell you think I need his permission.”

“The part where your boyfriend is dating other people,” Jessica throws at Steve. 

Steve turns to Danny, mouth slightly agape like he wants to respond but has possibly forgotten how words work. Danny can sympathize. 

He sighs. “Steve’s not my boyfriend. I’m not his boyfriend. I’m guessing the problem here is me calling him my partner?”

“That,” Jessica says, and starts counting on her fingers, “and you called him babe, and you were taking a walk on the beach together, and you said Steve had no need to be jealous when you looked at Kayla, and when Steve took his shirt off you -”

“Alright! Alright.” He throws up his hands, as if he can physically shield himself from whatever she wants to say about that fifth finger. “There’s been a misunderstanding here. The partner thing was in reference to work, because we’re work partners. Hawaii Five-0, Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett and Detective Sergeant Danny Williams, at your service.” 

“Should’ve been a little more clear about that,” Steve says.

“You think?” Danny asks, letting his defensive stance go because he has to throw up his hands at this hyperintelligent remark. He turns back to the women. “The rest of it was just joking around. We’re friends, okay. We’re good friends. Steve’s a boy and a friend, but he’s not my boyfriend.”

Kayla’s eyes widen. “Wait, you’re those detectives that keep shooting people.”

Which, unexpectedly, is pretty much the end of that conversation. Jessica and Kayla apologize for making the wrong assumption, thank them for the game again, and leave. Danny can’t even blame them. He wouldn’t want to give his number to someone who seemed like he was trying to cheat right under his boyfriend’s nose and then turned out to be known for massive amounts of property damage either.

He keeps an eye out for any balls coming his way when Steve and he resume their walk along the beach. “So that was a train wreck,” he says, because he can’t with the awkward silence.

Steve doesn’t answer. When Danny looks over, it turns out it’s because Steve is biting his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

“What, you asshole?”

“No, nothing,” Steve says. A beat. “It’s just funny, ‘s all.”

“No, it fucking isn’t.” It’s a little funny, maybe. Danny makes sure Steve doesn’t see him fighting his own grin. “Why does this kind of thing keep happening when I introduce you to people? Can’t I take you anywhere?”

“I don’t know, Danno. Maybe they just pick up on the deep romantic love in your voice when you say my name.”

Danny swats at Steve’s naked bicep. Steve is _still_ holding his shirt in his hand. “Or maybe they’re seeing the lusty looks you’re shooting me behind my back.”

“Could be,” Steve concedes.

-

4.

Work somehow leads them away from the sunny beaches and to Alaska in fall, because of course it does. Steve doesn’t even wear mittens, but he still looks not even a little bit frozen, because of course he doesn’t. Danny, on the other hand, is very glad when they finally step into the lobby of their hotel and he can start peeling off layers. 

He’s doing just that, standing a bit behind Steve, so he hears every word when Steve leans over the counter to charm the lady at the reception. “Hi. I’d like to book a room for me and my partner. One night, please.”

The receptionist smiles at Steve even as she starts typing away at her computer. “Sure thing. Would you like a full or a Queen size mattress?”

“Uh,” Steve says. “Twins, actually.”

This seems to surprise her enough that the clacking of her keyboard falls silent. “Are you sure? We have some very nice rooms with doubles available for the same price.” 

Steve bumbles through the rest of the booking, insisting that yes, they really do want two separate beds. Danny has to bite his tongue the entire time, practically vibrating with it.

As soon as Steve has the key and they walk away from the counter, he feels free to lay into Steve without scaring the poor woman. “Ha!” he yells (with _some_ restraint, because they’re still in the lobby of a hotel with a working heater, which he respects). He points a triumphant finger at Steve. “I’m not the only one this happens to. This time you were the one doing the introducing.”

Steve pushes the button for the elevator, because he has to be in the driver’s seat even here. “Hey, no. That didn’t count.”

“Why on earth would that not count?”

“This wasn’t about…” Steve motions at the thing that is, or isn’t, between them. “This was just about beds.”

“Beds!” Danny exclaims, and then looks guiltily over his shoulder at the receptionist. He’s glad when the elevator opens for them with a ding and he can continue yelling at Steve in their own private metal box. “You’re not seriously trying to convince me that woman didn't think we were a couple when you asked for a room for you and your partner?”

Steve tilts his head a little. “She might not have thought that,” he tries, unconvincingly.

“What,” is all Danny says.

“Okay, yes, she definitely did.” Steve drags a hand over his face, but he’s laughing slightly as he does it, so Danny isn’t any more worried about his mental state than he is normally. “It’s more fun when it happens to you, though.”

“Karma, babe,” Danny tells him wisely. The elevator says ding to announce their floor, clearly in agreement.

-

5.

Parent-teacher conferences used to be a pretty stressful event. It’s always nerve-wracking to have to listen to a stranger’s opinion on how you did raising your own kid and if she’s really as brilliant as you think she is, but Danny is convinced it’s worse as a divorced single dad. Not only does he have to face teachers, he also has to do it on his own, while Rachel has Stan-shaped back-up.

When he tells Steve about this, Steve offers up a simple solution. Danny isn’t sure why he agrees, except that the thought of the bond Steve has with Grace warms a certain muscly part of his circulatory system, and he really likes that Steve takes an interest in her future. 

So yeah, Steve tags along to the next parent-teacher night. Clearing it with Rachel is surprisingly easy. So much so, in fact, that Danny decides on the spot never to ask why exactly she doesn’t put up more of a fight about his plan to take his crazy colleague to something that’s technically a parents only event. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to hear her answer to that question.

When the night comes, they file into the classroom one by one: Stan, Rachel, Danny, and then Steve, who’s managed to find a shirt and a pair of cargo pants without any bloodstains on them. Danny is very impressed. Stan and Rachel head directly for the four adult sized chairs set up to face the teacher’s desk, but Danny makes Steve come to a stop with a hand on his shoulder before they sit down.

“Barbara,” he says warmly, shaking the teacher’s hand. She’s a friendly old lady, and he hopes she remembers him from the opening of the school year, when she’d called him ‘charismatic’ at one point during their short conversation. “It’s so nice to meet you again.” 

“Same to you, Mr. Williams,” she replies. 

“Oh please, call me Danny.”

“Alright, Danny it is.” Her gaze shifts to Steve, still smiling. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

Which is Danny’s cue to use his grip on Steve’s shoulder to push him forward half a step, so Steve can politely shake Barbara’s hand too. “This is my partner, Steve. Is it alright if he sits in on the meeting?” 

It’s not like he’s going to take no for an answer (or like there’s any hope Steve would do that), but he feels like some basic politeness might be good. He’s got himself convinced that this move makes total sense (God help him, really), but he’s aware at some level that most families don’t bring their SEAL buddy of no blood relation to school events.

“Of course!” Barbara hastens to say. “You shouldn’t even feel the need to ask. We have a policy of inclusivity and acceptance at this school. Naturally that includes all sexual orientations.”

It’s happened so many times by now that Danny saw the end of her sentence coming as soon as she started it. He’s developing some kind of sixth sense. That would be cool, if it wasn’t for something as useless as recognizing two seconds in advance when people are going to assume he and Steve are in a different kind of relationship than they actually are.

Danny automatically exchanges a look with Steve. “You said it,” Steve tells him.

He doesn’t sigh or roll his eyes, but he kind of wants to. “Okay, I’ll admit this one might be on ourselves.” 

Steve just shrugs and takes one of the empty chairs, scooching it a little closer to the one left for Danny. It’s a sign of… something, possibly, that neither of them even tries to set the record straight anymore.

Hah. Straight.

-

+1.

Alright, so they’re partners. That’s old news by now and their relationship and who they are to each other is comfortably settled.

Or it was, at least, until one evening a few weeks after Steve meets Grace’s teacher. They’re sitting on Steve’s couch together, enjoying a beer and a game and possibly the way their knees and shoulders are pressed together, despite there being plenty of room to avoid touching, if they so wished. Danny doesn’t wish so.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking,” is Steve’s opening line. It says something about how fast he moves next that Danny doesn’t even get to utter a single syllable of “that sounds dangerous” before he’s effectively shut up by Steve’s tongue in his mouth. 

Not that he’s complaining. The game probably ends, at some point, but Danny will never know, because he’s too busy running his hands and lips over every inch of Steve’s skin.

The next morning Danny wakes up in Steve’s bed, with Steve’s legs tangled with his. They have round three, and then they have eggs, and then they have a conversation. It can be summed up mostly as follows:

“You good?” 

“I’m good. You too?”

“Me too.”

And that’s it, somehow. It’s wonderfully, almost scarily easy. Something has shifted, but it’s a much smaller something than Danny thought it would be. They’re still partners, except the definition is a little expanded now. They’re partners plus. Partners with benefits, like regular sex, and, well, all of the things they’ve been doing together outside of the scope of a normal work partnership already anyway, because maybe they’ve been heading here for a long time and this was just the last step. Go figure.

Just five days later, they’re trying to have a nice chat with a witness for one of their cases when bullets start flying. They come from a car on the street in front of the coffee shop. It speeds off with screeching tires after dramatically missing with all three shots, so Danny is inclined to put the incident pretty low on his list of times a bullet almost ended his life. Of course, Steve chases after the car on foot for almost a full block because he’s Steve, but he ultimately has to admit defeat because he is also, contrary to his own expectations, still human.

So they leave it up to HPD to deal with the hysterical shop owner and his broken window. They load their witness in the back of their car, because it seems this conversation would be safer if held at the office. One murder attempt a day is quite enough, thank you.

“Hey. Hey, guys,” the witness says, as Steve is driving them away from the scene of the attempt on their witness’s life. The guy very chill about it all. From his mannerisms in general it’s pretty obvious he’s on something, but Danny doesn’t ask. What he doesn’t know, he can’t be expected to arrest people for.

He does crane his neck to look at the witness, because the guy just got shot at. It would be good of them if they noticed if he did go into shock after all. Steve also looks over his shoulder (which he shouldn’t, because he’s driving, but when does Steve ever do what he should), and whatever the witness wanted to say goes out the window as he stares at them in wide-eyed fascination. 

“Damn, you’re more in sync than, like, N’Sync.”

“We’re partners,” Steve says, which seems to have become a fitting answer for pretty much everything in life. Danny appreciates that he’s looking at the road again, temporarily.

“On the job, or like, homoerotically?”

Steve glances at Danny before he answers. “Bit of both?”

“Lots of both,” Danny says. “Very homoerotic partners with too much work.”

“Dope,” their witness opines.

Danny looks at Steve, who’s already grinning at him. “Yeah, you know what?” Danny asks. “It really is.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, confession time, in post-fic safety: I’ve never seen a single episode of Hawaii Five-0. 
> 
> Not one. Not even half of one. All I had to go on while writing this was a handful of clips I’ve seen on YouTube, some things from Tumblr, a couple of Wikipedia entries, and the surprisingly huge amount of McDanno fic I’ve read over the past six days, considering the fact that this all started when I randomly clicked on a link to a fic for a ship I’d only vaguely heard of because the concept sounded interesting. Guess that spiraled a bit.
> 
> Also, because I’m clearly not an expert on this show (at all), please feel free to point out any really incongruous things I may have written. This isn't meant to fit perfectly in canon, per se, but if something like characterisation is wildly off for someone, I probably didn't mean to do that. (This is why you shouldn’t write fic for fandoms you’re not even in, but Steve and Danny’s dynamic just? got me hooked? so badly?)
> 
> Last but not least, thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, if you’re able to. They’re the best way to make your local fanfic writer’s day. <3
> 
> If you want to find me on Tumblr, I'm [itwoodbeprefect](itwoodbeprefect.tumblr.com).


End file.
